


Serendipity

by Anonymous



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-19 01:56:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29992137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Yeosang stumbles into Wooyoung's coffee shop while looking for shelter from the rain, and there's not much else to do but get to know one another.
Relationships: Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53
Collections: Always With You - Woosang Fic Fest





	Serendipity

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [WoosangFicFest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/WoosangFicFest) collection. 



You didn’t need a car to get around in Seoul. That was a belief that Yeosang would live and die by, no matter how many times Seonghwa insisted on the ease and convenience of private transportation. Sure, he could afford one if he really wanted, but there were far better things to spend his money on.

Drones, for instance.

On certain days, however, it was true that this belief did waver very slightly – such as when he was on foot, still three blocks away from the nearest subway station, and all of a sudden the ominously grey sky chose that moment to open up with a hearty drizzle that felt like it might at any moment turn into a fully-fledged downpour. He could probably have used a car right then.

Hunching instinctively as if that might help to keep him dry, Yeosang darted for the nearest doorway he could find. A bell above the polished wooden frame tinkled merrily as he pushed it open, sighing and sweeping ineffectually at the droplets of water dotting his black shirt.

“Oh, hi! Welcome!” came the unexpected greeting, and Yeosang finally looked up and around cautiously at the shop he had blindly shoved his way into.

It was a coffee shop – a small one, cramped in that cosy, vintage sort of way that he had only ever seen in pictures before then. The walls were red brick, the tables the same smooth wood as the doorframe, the chairs an eclectic mix of metal and wood. A shelf to the side was piled high with various knick-knacks – delicate china teacups, books with too-long English titles, jars of coffee beans, a set of four letters spelling out H O M E.

Opposite him, behind the counter, was the beaming young man who had greeted him, and hanging by his head was a poorly-folded towel creature that looked more like a voodoo doll to Yeosang than anything else.

It was a weekday afternoon, and the rest of the shop was very much empty. Yeosang stared back at the delighted-looking barista as the gentle aroma of ground coffee beans wafted about the enclosed space and airy classical piano played in the background, and felt as if he had stumbled into another dimension all together.

“Hi,” he muttered, gesturing back the way he had come. “Uh, it started raining, so –”

“Yeah, I saw,” the barista cut in with a laugh. “It was so sudden. You’re not going to be late for anything, are you?” Yeosang didn’t typically like being interrupted, but he supposed it hadn’t felt all that rude, merely as if the other man’s excitement had overtaken him in that moment. He seemed like the kind of person to be overtaken by his own excitement a lot.

Yeosang shook his head. “I was just on the way home from a meeting, actually. Couldn’t get to the subway in time and I don’t have an umbrella.” He wrinkled his nose in annoyance and saw the barista’s lips purse sympathetically.

“Well, that sucks. Feel free to hang around as long as you like. It’s pretty quiet most afternoons anyway.” For the first time, the other man’s expression seemed to drop slightly as he glanced around the empty coffee shop, before he met Yeosang’s eyes again with another playful smile. “You’re wearing _jeans_ – to a meeting. Either you’re the CEO or you’re so good at your job that they let you get away with anything. Which one is it?”

Yeosang raised a brow at the unexpected question, and it was a tangled mix of surprise and amusement that kept him from deflecting to something a little less personal. “Neither. It wasn’t a business meeting,” he said with a wry chuckle as he moved closer to the counter. “I was just meeting my editor. I’m a novelist.” By then, he was close enough to see the tiny mole beneath the barista’s left eye, and the gold-trimmed letters on his nametag: _Wooyoung_.

“A novelist?” To Yeosang’s surprise, Wooyoung’s eyes widened at his words. “You mean, like a writer?”

The sheer amazement blossoming to life on Wooyoung’s face was new and terrifying – this was exactly why Yeosang refused to have his face pictured anywhere in his books, because fame was the last thing he wanted to deal with – and he wasn’t quite sure how to react to it. Yeosang tended to deal with compliments by pointedly pretending he hadn’t heard them, but he was, after all, trapped in here for the foreseeable future if the torrential downpour outside was any indication.

“Oh, I’m not – I mean, I’ve really only written one book,” he said awkwardly, but Wooyoung had already popped out eagerly from behind the counter before Yeosang could even finish his train of thought.

“Okay, look, coffee’s on me,” Wooyoung declared. “You _have_ to tell me more about what you write. I’m sure it’s great, and I love reading.”

Blinking rapidly in befuddlement, Yeosang found himself swiftly being steered to a nearby table with Wooyoung’s hand pressed between his shoulder blades. He felt a little as if he had gotten onto a roller coaster while being under the exceedingly erroneous impression that it was a sedate children’s ride.

Still, Wooyoung had a terribly infectious smile, all teeth and cheekbones and half-moon eyes, and before Yeosang even realised it was happening, he was sinking down onto a chair and quirking a small, small smile right back at the barista.

Even the coffee, when it came, was just right. A single sip was enough to tell Yeosang, with his notoriously sweet tooth, that the usual overwhelming bitterness of the drink was nowhere to be found. He raised his gaze to Wooyoung, who had planted himself in the chair opposite with a smugly expectant look on his face. The relentless drumming of the rain was muffled through the brick, and once again Yeosang felt as if he had accidentally wandered into some sort of pocket dimension where everything felt real and unreal all at once.

“This coffee, it’s good,” Yeosang muttered, and then, abruptly deciding that it would be better to take the plunge on his own rather than wait to be interrogated, asked tentatively, “You, uh, you like to read?”

Wooyoung automatically straightened at that, a momentary flicker of glad surprise passing across his face as if he hadn’t expected Yeosang to make the first move. “Oh, yeah,” he said, his eyes lighting up with renewed interest. “I’ll read pretty much anything as long as it’s interesting. Recently I finished – well, you might have heard of it – _All to Zero_? It’s this YA book that’s really blown up on social media recently. It’s about –”

“An idol group,” Yeosang said quietly, and that was enough to stop Wooyoung in his tracks, his mouth half-open as he blinked.

“Well, yeah, exactly! So you’ve read it too?” Wooyoung looked like he had never heard better news in his life. “I mean, I guess it’s not so surprising that you keep up with bestsellers as a writer yourself, but I’ve known of this author for a while now, so it’s nice that he’s finally hitting it big.”

Yeosang could find no appropriate response to that. In fact, he could hardly believe that this was happening at all.

 _All to Zero_ was the latest novel to have quite unexpectedly exploded into overnight popularity online, the tenacity of the struggling boy group within its pages somehow managing to steal hearts as if they were real people. Of course Yeosang had read it – he was the one who had written it, after all.

Fortunately, Wooyoung wasn’t quite done with his tale yet. “He started off writing children’s books, you know. My brother is quite a bit younger than me so I used to read to him a lot, and he loved the _Hehetmon_ series. It’s like this little thing with a flower on its head? You probably don’t know it, but it’s really cute.”

Yeosang slowly raised a brow, and in the end he didn’t know why exactly he came clean. Maybe because cocooned here in this coffee shop, snug and warm and out of the driving rain, he felt safe. Maybe because there was something about the cheerful sincerity of Wooyoung’s smile that nudged gently through his defences. Maybe because, for that one moment, he felt just a little braver than usual.

“I do know it,” he said, uncertain of exactly what expression was on his face right then as he met Wooyoung’s eyes. “I’m Kang Yeosang.”

A stunned silence slowly blanketed the two of them, and Yeosang could almost see the gears in Wooyoung’s mind grinding furiously as he struggled to process this information, until finally he spluttered, “ _You’re_ Kang Yeosang?” Wooyoung leaped to his feet dramatically, jaw working soundlessly for another second. “So the book you’re writing now – it’s the sequel to _All to Zero_?”

Yeosang couldn’t help smirking just a little, his nerves fading away the longer Wooyoung’s gobsmacked expression remained on his face. “I’m thinking of titling it _Zero to One_. What do you think?” he asked casually.

“What do _I_ think?” Wooyoung said blankly, sinking back down onto his chair with wide-eyed bewilderment written all over his face. “I think it sounds amazing and I can’t wait to read it. That’s what I think.”

Yeosang shook his head slightly, one corner of his mouth quirking up in self-conscious pleasure. “I was surprised when you mentioned _Hehetmon_ ,” he confessed, for a lack of anything else to say. “Children’s books are kind of niche.”

Wooyoung shrugged, but the furrow of his brows and the corners of his lips softened noticeably, a faint air of wistfulness shrouding him as he stared off past Yeosang’s shoulder. “Like I said, my brother loves the series. I read those books to him all the time before I moved out.” He paused, and then gestured vaguely around them with a crooked smile. “ _Someone_ had to manage this place.”

Yeosang shifted in his seat, surprise colouring his features for the first time. “You own this shop?” he asked, before settling back and pursing his lips, hoping he hadn’t come off as rude. “I mean, it’s only that I thought you were just, well, an employee at first.”

Wooyoung laughed, setting his cheek against his palm as his other hand traced back and forth along the edge of the table. “I’m both,” he said jokingly. “One of my friends used to help me out, but business hasn’t been so good for a while. I couldn’t afford to pay him, so now it’s just me.” There was no bitterness in his tone, only an air of weary resignation that Yeosang thought didn’t at all suit the vibrant man he had just met.

“Your coffee really is very good,” he said slowly, head tilting slightly as he stared out at the rain falling beyond the glass in silver-grey streaks. “I think what you need is just a bit more…publicity.”

Yeosang had never particularly cared for or about his popularity on social media before, but all of a sudden it seemed like a potential asset rather than a liability.

Turning away from the windows, he was somewhat taken aback to find Wooyoung watching him with an odd little half-smile on his face, almost like he had seen something particularly adorable. It was a look that Yeosang associated more with videos of fluffy baby animals rather than someone like himself, and it was that more than anything that decided him. Wooyoung had already been so much kinder than he really needed to be, and Yeosang wanted to do something nice for him in return as well.

“You don’t mind if I make a post about your coffee shop, do you?” he asked, already looking around for the best angle and lighting for a nice shot.

“Um.” Wooyoung blinked, looking confused as he shook his head. “No, go ahead. I could make you another cup of coffee for the picture, if you wanted?”

“And maybe a slice of cake too, if you don’t mind,” Yeosang said distractedly. “I’ll pay for it. I mean, I don’t know if this will help, but maybe some of my followers like good coffee.” He looked back up at Wooyoung, his ears hot with embarrassment but feeling more invested in this minor endeavour than anything unrelated to writing that he could remember in a long while.

It was only then that Wooyoung seemed to understand what Yeosang was driving at, and he flushed deeply. “You really don’t have to,” he said weakly, but Yeosang refused to allow himself to be dissuaded.

In the end, the picture was simple and the caption perhaps a little dry, as all of Yeosang’s were. A cup of coffee, a slice of cake, and a pen set atop a worn leather notebook, framed against the raindrop-dotted glass and the grey-hued street beyond.

> **kysofficial** Great coffee, great ambience, great inspiration. Absolutely nothing more I could ask for.

They ended up sharing the slice of cake, chatting casually about books and writing all the while. Wooyoung gave Yeosang a short tour of the small kitchen in the back as well, where he baked all the cakes on display on his own at ungodly hours of the morning before opening. There was a warm, homely sort of messiness to the cramped space, with utensils set out to dry and ingredients laid out in a corner within easy reach, but every surface was sparkling clean.

“You’ve done amazingly with this place,” Yeosang said truthfully. The love and care Wooyoung had poured into this cosy little getaway deserved to be recognised, and Yeosang hoped that in this, at least, he would be able to make a difference.

The rain slowed to a drizzle not long after, before finally coming to a damp stop, and Yeosang felt a strange hesitation seize him when he hoisted his bag onto his shoulders. It felt as if reality had come crashing back down on him, and with it, all the awkwardness that usually accompanied his every interaction with a complete stranger. Suddenly, he glanced back at Wooyoung, who was still looking at him with that bright eagerness in his eyes, and found that he had no idea what to say.

“It was nice to meet you,” he said, feeling small and ridiculous as he blurted out that trite, meaningless line.

The corner of Wooyoung’s lips curved subtly, as if he could feel the discomfort that held Yeosang rigidly in place. “It was nice,” he agreed. “Good luck with your writing.”

Yeosang nodded, shifting his weight uncertainly from foot to foot as he considered Wooyoung, standing just out of reach with his apron sitting a tiny bit crooked on one of his shoulders. It was a perfectly polite, non-threatening distance that, Yeosang realised, he didn’t like at all.

He’d liked it better when Wooyoung had been sitting opposite him, leaning forward with spontaneous enthusiasm, his elbows on the table as he chattered away about the books that he liked and all the reasons he liked them. He’d liked it better when Wooyoung had grinned at him, open and honest and full of passion as he described all the different types of coffee that Yeosang had never really cared about before.

“Wooyoung,” he said slowly, gathering the courage from somewhere deep in him, and also from the curious, welcoming smile that Wooyoung immediately shot his way. “Do you think…could we meet again?”

Wooyoung let out a breath at that, a nervous-sounding laugh escaping from his throat. “I’d love to,” he said quickly, stepping forward to push a crumpled-up napkin into Yeosang’s hand.

Yeosang stared down at it, at the messily-scribbled phone number scrawled jaggedly onto the paper, and felt something in his chest loosen. He wondered when Wooyoung had found the time to write this, and how long he had been holding on to it, and if he would actually have let Yeosang walk out the door without his number.

Whatever the answers to those questions, he had ended up with the napkin after all, folded and tucked securely into his pocket, and Yeosang supposed that was all that really mattered in the end.

As he stepped out of the coffee shop, Yeosang lifted his face to the cool breeze that welcomed him and inhaled deeply. There were so many things he had to do. Groceries to buy, a manuscript to edit, and now – wonderfully and unexpectedly – a date to arrange.

He could hardly wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the prompter for such an adorable idea! I just hope I didn't make it too boring ;;
>
>> Woo works and own a coffeeshop. It is a slow business and they have not much customers, Yeosang, a novelist, trying to escape the rain by entering Woo's coffeeshop. Intrigued by Yeosang's job, Woo treats him a coffee and thy have a long talk. Basically warm woosang in rainy day. A sweet first meeting, and i imagined at the end one of them says "can we meet again?" but it's up to you.


End file.
